This chapter is inspired by the song "Omerta" by Lamb of God as well as my desire to see certain characters when they've finally fucking had enough.
Omerta
Harry led his little group out of the Gryffindor common room, leaving Bill, who wanted to show his wife a very interesting tapestry in the boy's dormitory. Stepping out into the winding halls, Harry's stomach roared loudly and he stopped abruptly, causing everyone else, all of whom had largely been going where Harry went, to stop just as suddenly and look at him. After a moment's awkward silence, Harry finally said, "bugger, I'm hungry. I haven't eaten more than a few biscuits since I woke up." He turned to Ron, eyes wide and excited, "I bet the elves would make us a fry-up." Ron's face brightened substantially as his eyes glassed over.
Harry leaned over to Ginny's ear and whispered as softly as possible, "when I go, run as fast as you can." Harry took her hand and began to walk again, smoothly running his fingers over the back of Ginny's hand, when very suddenly he took off running, Ginny taking off instantly after him. He could only hear their footsteps for a moment until he heard the heavy sounds of Ron's long legs propelling him down the hall after them with a flurry of feet coming after. He kept running until he reached the steps where he wrapped his arm around the small column and hoisted himself up onto the banister, sliding down the smooth, flat marble surface.
Ginny's footsteps were quick chops as she could not do more than take each step as fast as possible, but suddenly the heavy footsteps caught up with Harry as he reached the first landing of the staircase. Harry slid off the banister and stopped, turning to see what Ron would do, Ginny quickly catching up with him.
They looked together up the stairs, but could not see Ron anywhere. Then they heard Hermione's voice echo from the hall upstairs, "Ron, NO!" followed by the sound of Ron's heavy feet running. He appeared suddenly at the top of the stairs before he flung himself through the air, his legs pumping as though they were still running and his arms windmilling as though he were swimming. Harry grabbed Ginny and moved back to the wall just in time for Ron to land, heavily but smoothly, approximately where they had been standing a moment before.
Neville appeared at the top of the stairs, followed by Hermione, Hannah, and Luna. "Ron, that was bloody wicked," he called out. Hermione dashed down the stairs while Ron slowly straightened himself out, most likely feeling some soreness from his landing. When she reached him, she put her arms around him, "Ron, what on Earth were you thinking? You could have seriously hurt yourself. Honestly, I…" She was cut off by Ron's lips pressing hard against hers. They kissed very boldly for a moment until Ron broke the kiss of and rested his cheek on the top of Hermione's head.
"I'm fine, Hermione. But thank you for your concern."
Harry smiled at that and saw in his periphery that Neville was leading the other two girls down the stairs to meet them. Harry turned to him, saying, "Fun as that was, I think Hermione will have our skins if we try that again. Let's just walk the rest of the way." Neville just smiled and nodded – there was no winning with an angry Hermione; it was best to give her exactly what she wanted.
Harry led off again, Ginny at his side, and the group talked about everything and nothing in particular:
"Harry, indulge us: what DOES a golden snitch taste like?"
"Neville, is there a way to grow devil's snare out of doors as a home defense?"
"Oh really, Luna? The what the hell does a Snorkack look like?"
"Hannah, which painting is it that opens to the Hufflepuff common room? I must have snuck down to the kitchens a hundred times and I couldn't tell you."
Harry had to admit it was the most relaxed he had been in some time. No more fights, no more trouble, no more worries. Approaching the doors to the great hall, he smiled; he had friends with him and he was about to eat. As he pushed them open, he looked at Ginny with a wonderful feeling in his chest – a feeling nothing in the world could replace.
"Mr. Potter! Harry!" multiple voices called out at once. Harry looked from Ginny to the Great Hall to find it full of reporters. Flashbulbs erupted around him, blinding him and sending him reeling into Ron's arms behind him. A familiar brogue called out over the din, "Oi, you leeches! Let the man through!" Seamus. Good old Seamus. "Harry! You alright mate?" Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and shaking his head to clear his vision, he saw Seamus in front of him looking concerned with Dean standing behind him, blocking the cameras with his long body.
"Better now, I suppose," Harry said sardonically. "When did they get here?"
"Been just a few minutes. Me and Dean came down from the Room of Requirement to get some breakfast and then they just started pouring in after." Harry nodded. Kingsley had warned him that eventually the press would be involved. He imagined that it was Kingsley's doing that he had a whole day to himself in the first place.
Ron propped Harry back on his feet and then moved around Seamus to stand next to Dean, blocking the cameras from catching Harry. Neville quickly joined them and Harry quickly realized just how big his friend had become watching as Neville stood like a human wall, strong, broad and immovable.
"Mr Potter, is it true that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead?"
"Mr. Potter, did you really defeat the Dark Lord?"
"Harry, are you a candidate to be the new Minister for Magic?"
The last question made Harry choke with laughter it was so ridiculous. He was seventeen years old and people were asking if he would be the new Minister. It was unconscionable. Harry turned to leave, shaking his head. He would just have Kreacher bring food back up to the common room – the press couldn't come there.
"Do you blame yourself for the deaths caused by this battle?"
The words made Harry stop. Ron put his hand on his best friend's arm, but Harry yanked it away. He knew that voice. Rita Skeeter. Ginny put her hand on his back and leaned in, whispering in his ear. Ron finally got an arm around Harry's shoulder, giving him a small jostle of consolation.
"Ah, hit a nerve, have I," she continued? "Come now, Harry, so many dead on your behalf and here you are gallivanting about with your friends? One would think they would have learned their lessons by now. Look at what happens to people close to you. Dumbledore was your mentor - killed by Death Eaters. Sirius Black, your godfather - killed for his connection to you. Why, one could say that goes all the way back to your parents! Is there some ancient magical curse or prophecy as yet to be revealed, Harry? And now look at them! Those two have lost a brother because of you, Harry, and here they are with you as if they've learned nothing! 'Potter Curse Continues!' sounds like a good…"
Seemingly from nowhere, a fist connected with the side of Rita Skeeter's jaw, and another crushed her glasses into her nose, shards from the lenses falling over her eyes. A small hand grabbed the witch's hair and drove her head down into a raised knee. Harry turned to see a small figure kneel, straddling the reporter, driving fist after fist into her face. Harry slowly walked towards her, brushing her bushy hair aside as he put his hand on her shoulder.
The flurry stopped, and Harry looked over the small woman's shoulder at the damage she had done. Rita's face looked like it had been smashed by a giant's club. Blood flowed freely from her every orifice as Harry brought the young witch to her feet, pulling her away from the woman she had brutalized. Hermione looked exhausted and punchdrunk and Harry had never guessed that her prodigious magical skill was augmented by an obvious familiarity with muggle fighting. "If you so much as look at any one of us again," she bellowed at the reporter, "I'll fucking kill you. You should have learned your lesson years ago. You gave me your word and you broke it.
"Harry just saved England and you have the audacity to try to discredit him? There are consequences for everyone's actions, Ms. Skeeter – karma. There was a time in the muggle world where, had you written half the drivel you put out as true, you would have been dealt with. So let me tell you right now that in about thirty seconds, you're going to lose consciousness. Someone will take you to Madame Pomfrey or to St. Mungo's and you'll be treated. You might even make a full recovery. But while you can still hear me, hear this," and Hermione's voice rose dramatically louder than it had been, "that if you ever, ever trouble Harry, Ron, Neville… fuck it… if any of you bother us again, AND YOU KNOW WHO WE ARE, we will deal with you. I will deal with you.
"You owe your sniveling, clawing lives to a bunch of teenagers who had more sack than the lot of you. You owe your lives to schoolchildren and you don't even have the pride to show gratitude?! What is wrong with you?" With that, Hermione turned her attention back to Rita. She looked down at her for a moment, eyes full of spite and fury, and she punched her once, right between the eyes. "Fucking bitch."
Harry became very aware of the crowd standing around them. Ministry officials, families, and members of the wizarding press stood aghast at the sight before them, and here stood Hermione, hands soaked and dripping with blood. No one moved, still too struck by the scene that had just played out. "Hey Dean," a voice called out finally. "Did you see anything?"
After a moment's silence, another voice, "Not me, Seamus. You Neville?"
"Didn't see anything other than this beautiful afternoon sky, myself. Did anyone actually see anything," Neville called out in a voice that belied the thinly veiled challenge within. No one responded. Neville winked at Harry and led the DA up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room. The DA had been the criminals of Hogwarts over the past year, but now it seemed to be its mafia, code of silence and all. To mess around one was to mess them all around. Problems would be dealt with internally. They had their own rules – everyone else just had to learn them.
Harry put his arm around Hermione's shoulders and held her close while Ron and Ginny approached. Through damaged halls and corridors, the troop walked enjoying each other's company as they had not been able to do all year. As they reached the portrait hole, a cat patronus stopped Harry's momentum.
"Mr. Potter," the cat said in Professor McGonagall's clipped tone, "to my office immediately." The voice left no room for discussion and Harry didn't need to guess what she would want to talk about.
Harry made his way up the stairs to Professor McGonagall's office for the second time that day, and as he reached the top of the stairs, he heard the smooth tones of Kingsley Shacklebolt, which made Harry very nervous. Minister or no, Kingsley was a man for whom Harry had a great deal of respect on a personal level. While he hated to disappoint Professor McGonagall at all, it would probably be worse in the long-term to disappoint the Minister for Magic
Opening the door, Harry saw Kingsley and Arthur Weasley talking to Professor McGonagall, who stopped speaking when she saw him enter the room. Kingsley and Arthur turned and looked at him with amusement. Harry dropped his head and shook it. They weren't mad at him? He had practically inspired a brutal assault.
Harry raised his head and met Arthur's eyes and a look passed between them that needed no words. Mr. Weasley ruffled his already untidy hair before stepping away to allow Kingsley his piece. "Thank you, Harry," Kingsley said, his baritone voice cracking slightly.
Harry was incredulous. "Do none of you realize what just happened? Rita Skeeter is probably on her way to St. Mungo's right now and NO ONE wants to yell at me? I mean, Professor, you should because it's your school. Minister, shouldn't you be upset with how I just handled the press? Mr. Weasley… you're the closest thing I have to a father! Shouldn't you be disappointed?"
"Have a seat, Harry," Kingsley said after a moment, gesturing to one of the large armchairs in front of the desk. Harry did so, Mr. Weasley sitting next to him, Professor McGonagall taking her place behind the desk and Kingsley leaning on one corner of it.
"Harry, we know what happened in the great hall, and while I do happen to know that you did nothing wrong yourself, you may trust that both Ms. Granger and Ms. Abbott will be speaking with Professor McGonagall… eventually. Right now, it's honestly not a priority. I was actually going to ask you how you wanted to handle the press for the next few weeks, but I suppose you've taken care of that yourself."
"And Harry, why on Earth would you think anyone would be mad at you? You saved all of our lives," Mr. Weasley chimed in. Harry became very grim as his mind instantly shot to Colin, Remus, Tonks, and Fred. Mr. Weasley's voice became very stern, "and I know what you're doing to yourself and you can stop it right now, Harry. I love my son and I miss him terribly, and I will continue to love and miss him as long as I live, but you did not kill him, Harry. Voldemort did. This war did. You did not start it, Harry, you ended it." With that, he pulled Harry into a tight hug and Harry began to choke back tears.
"Let it go, son."
When Harry heard the words, he could not control himself. His floodgate opened and all the sadness and fury and uncertainty that he felt about the past year rushed back through his mind. Tears spilled quickly from his eyes and he could feel Mr. Weasley's shirt dampening from them. No words were spoken while Harry cried, for how long he was not certain, but he felt Mr. Weasley's hand on his back, supporting him, loving him the way he thought his own father might have, and he drew his strength back from it. He sniffed a few times and sat back up, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.
"Right," he said, "now that I've embarrassed myself, is there anything else you need?"
Mr. Weasley was taken aback, "Harry, there's no reason to feel…"
Kingsley quickly cut him off, "we have some minor details to take care of at the moment – signing Voldemort's death warrant and taking you off the most wanted list to be going on with, but the fact is, Harry, that a day has passed with no official statement from the Ministry about what has happened. I have no intention of marching you out and traipsing you about in front of the press, but you and I will need to make an appearance and make a statement confirming the defeat of Voldemort and the abolition of the old ministry. Their paradigm is broken; an example must be set."
Harry nodded resignedly. He knew somewhere within him that this would have to happen; people would want their answers and he was the one that had them. "I can't reasonably censor you, Harry; I'd dare say you could take my job from me right now. Just… there are things to be learned from this. I would appreciate it if you would tell us what happened before we make any public announcement."
Harry thought it strange that Kingsley would even suggest that he would take the Ministry as the only thing Harry wanted to take at the moment was another nap. He sat in thought for a moment before pulling his wand out from his robe and lazily summoning a patronus, which stood looking at him for a moment before it ran, dissipating in front of the door. Kingsley looked at him curiously.
"I just called for a few people," Harry explained, "They'll hear it eventually anyway and I don't want to tell this story very many times. I'd rather they heard it all from me, Ron, and Hermione." Harry looked Mr. Weasley in the eyes, hopeful that he would understand that he was still so very tired. Arthur, in turn, turned to Kingsley, who just shrugged.
"I understand, Harry," Kingsley said, "We'll make this as painless as possible for you… just please bear in mind that there will be certain aspects of this that will need to be under the highest level of confidence. If you're about to tell me what I think you're about to tell me about Voldemort, that sort of knowledge must be contained as much as possible. Some words are meant to dwell in darkness, I believe."
The group made conversation for a few minutes while waiting for Harry's friends, and after a few moments, the new group arrived, Mrs. Weasley holding Ron's arm with Hermione at his other side and Ginny and Luna both flanking Neville. Professor McGonagall transfigured the armchairs into couches inviting everyone to sit down, leaving the dais to Harry. He caught Hermione's eyes and raised his eyebrows significantly.
"Ron, Hermione, Kingsley has asked me to fill him in on what happened to us over the past year so he can make an official statement. Mrs. Weasley, Neville, Luna, I've asked you all to come up because I believe you deserve to know what happened as well. If you three wouldn't mind," he indicated Ginny, Neville, and Luna, "I would appreciate it if you'd share what you can about Hogwarts… I'm can't make you or anything, but I think we might as well just get all this out now before we try to get back to normal."
Neville and Luna nodded, but Ginny looked down at her hands. Harry could only imagine the things she had been forced to endure because of their connection. Harry looked back at Ron and Hermione, who both nodded to him before he took a deep breath and sat down on the floor. "Alright then, here we go."
When Harry finished some hours later, he looked over at the people assembled in front of him. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked like they might cry at any moment. Hermione's explanation of Horcruxes drew gasps. Harry had not expected Ron to admit that he had left before Christmas but could see that he felt relieved that he had, at least until Ginny had tried to hex him. Harry quickly cast a shield between them; "You can yell at him later, Ginny. We have to finish this first," he told her solemnly, seemingly defusing the situation. He realized after a moment that he had done so wandless and silently and had mixed feelings about the revelation. He hoped that in the midst of Ginny's tirade and the stir it caused that no one else had noticed.
People were now talking among themselves, but Kingsley pulled Harry aside at the back of the large office. "Harry, I wanted to tell you how impressed I am with you," Kingsley said, suddenly devoid of the easy confidence that Harry had always considered a trademark of Kingsley's character. "I…," Kingsley sighed, seemingly conflicted.
"Harry, I have no right to ask you what I am about to ask you and for that I am sorry. I know you have a tumultuous relationship with the Ministry, but... but Harry, I need your help. The Ministry is decimated. The Aurors are practically an endangered species. Anyone of character and value was practically forced into hiding in the past few months after Thicknesse took over."
Harry looked at Kingsley with sympathy but an increasing unease. Fudge and Scrimgeor had both asked him to become the Ministry's poster boy and promise peace and prosperity. Now, here stood Kingsley Shacklebolt, his colleague and compatriot, seemingly taking the same tack as his predecessors. Harry decided to hear him out before turning him down – he owed Kingsley that much.
"Harry, you have unprecedented public support. If you were the Boy Who Lived when you were an infant, you're the Man Who Won now. I… the Ministry…" Kingsley stopped and recomposed himself. "Harry, I would like to officially offer you a position as an auror."
"What?" Harry said louder than he had intended, drawing attention from the rest of the room. He hadn't expected that at all. "I mean, Kingsley – by the way, do I call you Minister Shacklebolt now – I'm only 17. I don't even have my N.E.W.T.'s. I'm hardly qualified, wouldn't you say?" Harry didn't want to be a Ministry mouthpiece pulled out for show, but the possibility of being an auror… that was what he had wanted, really ever since he met Kingsley.
Kingsley only laughed in response, gasping as he said, "Harry, you just defeated the darkest wizard of this generation, possibly the darkest in English history. I daresay you are uniquely qualified to be an auror. Well, you, Ron and Neville," he said gesturing to the couch where the other two sat, watching the scene unfold. "Merlin, the three of you wouldn't even need training. I mean, you were hidden for over eight months, I daresay you could pass your stealth qualifier. Neville's braver than half my present staff. You could learn protocol on the job…" Kingsley's voice became increasingly quiet as he continued speaking to himself.
Harry looked at Ron uncertainly, hopeful that Ron might have the words Harry clearly did not. Finally, it was Neville who looked up to meet Harry's gaze, saying "I'll go if you two do." Kingsley whipped his head up to look at Neville, then to Ron, then Harry, hope clearly written across his face. Harry sighed and shook his head. "Ron, what do you want to do," he asked.
Ron snorted. "Now after seven years you'll ask my advice? Mate, just make up your mind so Hermione can plan the next forty years of my life."
Harry saw Hermione beam behind Ron and looked at Ginny, still unsure. After all, if he had his way, she would be a part of his life from now on – the biggest part. After a moment, she nodded once and smiled. Harry sighed and turned back to Kingsley; "Okay, we're in."
"Thank you Harry. I can't tell you how excited I am to get to finally work with all of you. And for the record," he said looking back at the rest of the room, "I will always just be Kingsley. There will be times when I will have to be 'Minister Shacklebolt', but who's kidding who here? I'm an auror at heart with a hell of a job to do; I'm too busy to get hung up on pretense. Besides, I dare say that I like you lot a hell of a lot more than I like most people at the ministry."
Mr. Weasley laughed out loud and Kingsley smiled widely at him. Harry could only imagine what the two of them had talked about over the last year – presumably they had similar distastes; Mr. Runcorn and Ms. Umbridge, for instance.
"There's something else as well, Harry, and for you as well, Ron and Neville," Kingsley said very seriously, taking a seat on McGonagall's desk while Ron and Neville approached. "Boys, you should know that in my first year on the job, I was assigned to a young auror. He wasn't a hotshot or fancy, but he was a family man and loved seeing the world being put to right. A few months in, he tells me that he hasn't been training a partner, he's been training a replacement. His wife was pregnant with his third and he decided that he was going to transfer to a safer office. I was quickly assigned a new partner who was from my training class and Mad-Eye had my partner and me supervise two trainees who were coming into the ranks together.
"After the first year though, we had to pass them off to another trainer because my partner, bless her soul, had fallen in love with one of the trainees. They were soon married and eventually had a son and the very next day, the other trainee's wife had a son as well." Harry's eyes grew as the revelation washed over him, and he looked at Neville who was listening intently with the same expression on his face. "My partner was known as Alice Hornsby when I met her, but when she married, she married Frank Longbottom. He had joined the Aurors with a classmate from '77 by the name of James Potter." He reached into his robes and pulled out four very old unpolished badges with names written on them. Auror Potter, two Auror Longbottoms, and finally, the oldest read Auror Weasley.
Harry looked up at Ron in shock and the two quickly turned to look at Mr. Weasley who merely smiled serenely and nodded. "Boys, much like with Hogwarts, your names have been on the books since you were born. You are born to fight for what is right, and while anyone would agree that you've done your part, the fact is that there is still evil out there. To see all three of you following in your fathers' footsteps whether you knew it or not… boys, let me assure you that there is no one better suited to lead the next generation of Aurors than you three. I have the fullest confidence in all of you." Kingsley picked up the badges and tossed them one by one to their new respective owner. Neville. Ron. Harry. "Pin them on, boys. The paperwork can wait until later, but for now, by the powers vested in me as Minister of Magic by Her Royal Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, I hereby appoint you, Harry James Potter, Ronald Bilius Weasley, and Neville Francis Longbottom, Aurors with all the privileges and responsibilities there unto appertaining."
